Page 82 of Murder Notes

“It’s not Kane,” I say, my heart thundering in my ears.

“He took over for his father.”

“His uncle—”

“Hasn’t been seen in six months.”

“It’s not Kane.”

“If you go down to the border towns, Kane’s name strikes fear in people.”

“That was his father’s doing. He wanted him to take over.”

His lips thin. “I’ve got something to show you.” He walks to his car and I meet him again at the hood of mine. He tosses a folder on the hood. “I sat up last night, doing Internet searches to put this together for you after I saw you leave with Kane.”

“I walked down the steps with him,” I say. “I didn’t leave with him.”

He flips open the folder and displays a photo of a head on a stick. “The Mendez Cartel’s work.” He flips to another, where bodies are piled on top of each other. “Also Mendez.” He goes to flip another, and I shut the file. “Enough.” I inhale and force myself into my Otherworld. “The sooner we get to the crime scene, the better.”

He stares at me for several hard beats. “I’ll meet you at the airport. I need to go have a chat with Kane, and I think we both know it’s inappropriate for you to join me.”

I open my mouth to tell him that Kane would not kill on his home turf, and he considers Manhattan part of that, but even to me, it sounds ridiculous and damning. Instead, I give him a sharp nod. “I’ll see you there.”

I leave the folder on the hood of the car and walk to the driver’s side and get in. My brother opens the passenger side and tosses it in the seat before shutting me inside again. He pulls out of the parking lot, and I roll down the window and toss those damn photos.

I arrive at the airport, lug my briefcase with me, and walk into the terminal to find Rich waiting on me. “Is it true you dated him?”

I don’t ask who he’s talking about or who he’s been talking to. Obviously Eddie is up to no good. “Yes.” I walk around him and he falls into step with me.

“Are you in love with him?”

“He was good in bed,” I say, trying to drive him away.

He grabs my arm. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“That thing you do to push people away.”

“I have a job to do. Please stop.”

“Are you still seeing him?”

“I’ve been gone two years. How can I be seeing him?”

“The man chopped off someone’s head.”

“He did not chop off someone’s head.”

“You’re defending him.”

“We’re done here.” I pull my arm free and start walking, making my way to the door where Andrew is waiting. We fall into step, crossing the tarmac to where the police helicopter is waiting.

“You aren’t going to ask how it went with Kane?” he asks.

“Nope.”

“He says he didn’t do it.”